


🧬Finn🧬

by GreyWardenIsla



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:33:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28394673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyWardenIsla/pseuds/GreyWardenIsla
Summary: A collection of fics about the life and story of Finn Hawke, half-dwarf half-human Champion of Kirkwall and lover of Fenris.
Relationships: Female Adaar/Blackwall | Thom Rainier, Fenris/Male Hawke, Male Cousland/Morrigan (Dragon Age)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	1. Troubled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leandra hurt her son, more than she would know.

Paper crinkled between fingers harshly, dried streaks making the red flaring in the cheeks of Finn pop. His eyes couldn’t leave the paper he wrote on, his usually perfect writing scribbled, ineligible, and spidery, the paper stained with the tears that had caused the temporary markings on his face. His teeth gritted as he tried to force the tension in his hand away, wishing to just rip apart the parchment, leaving it in shreds in the bin, but his fingers didn’t oblige and the tension simply grew up through his hands and crept up and through the rest of his body.

Finn could feel the sobs clutching at his throat, wanting to crawl out and take over his mind. He let out a cough, stiffly covering his mouth with the back of his hand as he tried to stifle it, clearing his throat to force it down, determined to keep the bubbling volcano down, deep within himself. He felt his tears sting at the corners of his eyes again, the male letting out a grunt as he moved his hand to press at the skin next to the forming tear.

“Fuck,” came his hissed response to his body's actions, hand scrunching the paper at the very corner as Finn’s hand clenched. “Shit, fuck, stop Finn,” he demanded, hand moving as his other eye began to sting as well. The ginger-haired male stood, sharply, chair scraping against the wooden floor of the Haw-..... Amell estate, nearly tumbling over his own feet. “Maker, get your shit together,” he scowled, stomping his way towards the bathing room, desperately needing to wipe his face free from his emotions.

The door opened with a soft scrap, the man entering the room the fastest he ever had, hand reaching into the built-in water tap, something he greatly valued since moving in. Water came pouring out, pooling into the bucket they used to contain the water, using the liquid to splash his face. If he could’ve drowned himself from how much water he had flung at his face he would have, his muscles tensing more and more as the water did nothing to quell his aggression. How could he not see he hadn’t been Malcolm’s son? How could he miss the signs that he had been half-dwarf, everything had been laid in front of him from his youngest memories, and yet he’d missed everything.

“Amare?” a soft call to Finn, though the male did not move an inch, his mind racing, anxieties building, waves crashing inside a caged mind that he couldn’t get a handle on. A sigh followed the silence and statuesque state Finn found himself in, footsteps lacking their usual metallic clank moving to him, the male feeling the other crouch to semi match his posing. “Finn, what’s wrong?” Fenris tried to coax something out of his lover, reaching his hand to place it on a cat curled back, Finn flinching at the contact. Fenris’s lips pursed at Finn, carefully coming closer to him. “Amare is this about your mother-”

“No!” Finn snapped, eyes turning on Fenris, like a cat being picked up after hissing. Finn settled quickly though, remembering who he was talking to. “I….It’s not….it’s more than her,” he added, eyes darting across the elves' features before snapping to the floor once again. “I--- this is pointless, you’ve said before mourning is only meaningless talk,” the male tried to sound assuring but he could feel the cracks in his words, reflecting the cracks in his voice.

“Yes, I did say that,” The elf grumbled out, raising his free hand to scratch at his chin sheepishly. “But this is far more complicated than just mourning. Your mother held secrets that change perhaps your whole identity and she only gave them to you as her final words. That is….not meaningless,” the male spoke slow, letting Finn take in the situation from someone else's viewpoint, one that wasn't riddled with the demons clutching at their every thought, trying to taint and twist it into more stress and pain.

“I-” Finn tried to speak again, but the tears broke free from the prison they had been held in, flashing down his cheek as they raced to fall as fast as they could humanly do. A sob wracked it’s way through Finn’s whole being, every muscle aching and shivering as it began a symphony of pained weeps to follow. “I loved him like a father!” The ginger-haired male bubbled, Fenris turning Finn to face him, expression morphing as he saw the crooked, broken smile that had latched itself onto Finn’s face. “I was so happy he was my father. With someone as kind and warm as him how could I ever turn out bad?” he kept pushing himself, gasping for air between each half sob. “I spent my whole life trying to be a Hawke and yet..” he choked out, almost doubling over if Fenris hadn’t been there to catch his cave in. “I can’t be one! I’m not Finn Hawke! I don’t know-”

Fenris pulled Finn between his legs, the male fully sitting now, letting the champion bury his head into the elves chest, sobs muffled by the loose shirt he wore. Finn’s one fear was the very thing that sought to tear him apart at this very moment. To him, his whole world and self was built on the lies of his cheating mother, someone he thought had been devout to her perfect husband, a man who risked absolutely everything for his children and wife. It had been a big elaborate lie.

“Cor meum, ut suus 'denique clamor.” Fenris hummed softly, Finn having no idea what he’d said but the tears pelted harder, his weeps turning to wails as he felt the corkscrew of the bottle popping and his emotions crashing against him violently.

Varric, who had been staying at the estate for a brief time, peaked his head in the door, worry scribbled across his whole face, something Fenris thought impossible. As Finn continued to bawl the elf turned to the dwarf, nodding softly, letting the rouge know he had this. Varric seemed hesitant, movements stiff and tense. The dwarf gave a half-hearted nod, moving his hands to let him know he’d go and make Finn’s favorite tea, tentatively closing the door to leave the two for a moment, his clunky footsteps disappearing down the hall.

When Finn’s wails turned to baby tears and then to sniffles Fenris took his time getting the half-human on to his feet, making sure that he could at least stand with some help from his partner. Finn felt numb all over, eyes half-lidded and movements far clumsier than the two-handed warrior had ever seen. He led him out of the bathing room, the light coming from the kitchen not too far letting the male get a good look at how bad he truly did look. “C’mon amare, we’re here to help,” he muttered, Finn following like a ghost behind Fenris who led him to Varric, hoping perhaps the rouge would help him with what would come next.


	2. Billow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billow - a large undulating mass of something, typically cloud, smoke, or steam.
> 
> A short drabble of Finn's cloud gazing reminding him of something he's lost

Standing in the middle of the bustling market of hightown, the ginger-haired Hawke couldn’t help but cast his gaze upwards, past the looming buildings and the ashen smoke he could see the whitest puff of heaven he would ever see. Melded into the smoke that cascaded into the sky he could pick out the pearly whites of the clouds that had conquered the skies of Lothering and he felt a pang in his heart, an empty pit that threatened to consume him with homesickness for the Ferelden Town he called his home.

“Finn!” Called his party, Fenris’s worry perhaps too evident on tanned features as the warrior snapped out of his thoughts, eyes moving towards his three companions that awaited the trek through the squabble of elitists that thought themselves higher than the billowing beauties he longed to watch. The male nodded courtly, sparing a longing look to his treasured clouds before turning his head and pressing ahead.


End file.
